Thank you for all the reviews. You don't know how much each one means to me. Also thank you to Alice, my beta reader, she makes me switch to American terms even when they start out sounding very Canadian.
Frozen
Chapter 4
"Margaret and I believe that Christmas day is for our immediate family, our children. Andrew and Jessica are still young enough to believe in Santa Claus but Kathleen knows her parents are Santa. It is a bit annoying just how smug she looks when the others start writing their 'Dear Santa' letters."
Jim rolled his eyes, "smug children can be very annoying. Whatever happened to calling the kids Andy, Jessie and Kat?"
"Those nicknames were babyish; once they start school we call them their proper names. Now that Margaret's father is running for the state senate she thinks the Dunbars should have names they can be proud to use as adults."
"So I guess it's just too damn bad you got stuck with Thom-ass."
Tom slammed on the brakes, turned and snarled. "What the hell do you think you know about me? You are ten years older than I am. You haven't spent more than a week with me since I was a kid. I am high school teacher; not a cop and proud to be a citizen of Indiana and not a New Yorker. I don't need or want anything from you and the only reason I'm driving you now is plain, simple Christian charity."
"Fine," Jim fumbled through the pockets of his borrowed parka trying to locate his cell phone, "you can drop Hank and me off anywhere you damn well please."
"What," Tom sneered, "are you going to call a cab, a Yellow Cab maybe, to take you where you want to go? Well, this isn't your world and you are going to have to depend on stupid little me." The car revved up and Tom pulled off the road onto the laneway of a deserted farm house. "You can take your attitude and…"
Before Tom could finish his rant both men noticed something approaching them; the loud, mechanical roar of snow mobiles following the same road as the car. Tom snapped off the lights and twisted to watch for what was coming. Passing the laneway was a line of six black machines each carrying two black clad men; one driving and the other holding a rifle.
"What is it," Jim demanded in a short, hard tone.
"Teenagers, obviously out to cause trouble this late at night," Tom clamped his hand over his mouth in the hope that his blind brother would not notice him gasping in fear. "Margaret would never forgive me if I did not get home before ten, so will you just shut up and let me take you home."
"Why not," Jim smirked, "you might grow another vertebra or two in your brand new backbone." With that Jim pulled the parka hood over his face and determinedly ignored his baby brother.
Richard Dunbar sat in his SUV, sipped another cup of scalded coffee and waited for a return call from Joyce. She was the best at organizing anything and Rick knew she would get someone to Pendleton to make sure Jimmy got back to the farm. It didn't matter that the techs were almost finished, the paper work would take hours and he would not get back there until the party tomorrow. Rick remembered the first call was so simple.
"What were you thinking of," Joyce demanded when Rick phoned from the Graham farm the first time, "Jimmy is going to get cold and bored and he's annoying enough when he's in good shape. Christie, am I right about this? Jim is fun until he gets bored and I can't see Uncle Ed and Aunt Jean keeping him mentally stimulated with the morning farm reports or the nightly obituaries on the radio."
"We'll be back at the farm before the two of you get finished shopping."
The second call didn't go as well as the first.
"He what! Your brother's guide dog found a body; found five bodies! For God's sake Ricky, this is Christmas vacation. This is the first time Jimmy's been back since his accident and he and his frigging Seeing Eye dog stumble on a mass grave?"
Rick got out and started pacing round the SUV. "It wasn't like he intended too. We got to the scene and Jimmy just walked Hank around and stumbled over the grave." Rick pulled his cell phone as far from his ear as possible but he could still hear Joyce; and now Christie too; demanding to know just what was he thinking. "But," he tried to cut in, the women didn't stop. "But," he tried again and didn't get any further than the first try. Finally Rick whistled into the phone. "Joyce; Jefferies the jerk demanded he talk to Jimmy at headquarters and he said he would make sure Jim got home tonight. There wasn't a whole hell of a lot I could do about it. Now I can probably be outta here by midnight if forensics thinks they have everything. They found a black smith's forge something's been burned in so they're taking the whole damn thing to the lab. Believe it or not that is speeding things up. Love you. Hope supper is reheatable." He snapped the phone shut knowing he'd be eating peanut butter tonight.
When the cell rang a third time Rick snapped, "What!"
When low, snow laden clouds obscured the pale stars; the night was deep, cloying black. Christmas lights that wound round front yard trees, fences and houses shone like pooled rainbows on the snow. As Tom Dunbar drove silently through the dark night he switched off his headlights and slowed down to a crawl.
"Taking the scenic route," Jim snarled as he flipped his watch crystal open to check the time. "I would like to get there before Santa."
"We'll get there when we get there," Tom mumbled as he squinted into the darkness. The lights of Springfield glowed ahead so Tom popped on the lights and sped toward the town. "Is this better?"
"Sure is, Tommy," Jim's over sweet voice was meant to be annoying as it was, "and maybe the wild teens on the snowmobiles would like to race us?"
"Snowmobilers," Tom swung his head to check behind, jerking the car over the rutted snow.
With high whines of three machines caught up with Tom Dunbar's car. They circled in ever tightening rings forcing Tom to stomp on the brakes as he snapped on the high beam. Now he could see just what was going on, but it was the same anonymous black clad riders from before.
"What the hell is going on," Jim's voice ground out.
"We've got trouble; let me take care of this."
The car shook when one of the black clad men pounded on the driver's side window.
"Its kinda dark driving with your lights out, mister," the voice was muffled by the black ski mask. "It looks real suspicious like, you know."
"Hey, who's the idjits in the station wagon," the voice could hardly be heard over the whine of the snow machine.
Tom flinched when the first man shown a high powered flashlight in his face. "It's Spider's kid's shop teacher, Mr. Dunbar."
"Ain't his brother a cop," the other voice was harder now.
The light swung over to Jim. "It ain't the cop."
Tom broke in, "this is my brother, Ja… Jim, from New York, he's visiting for Christmas." Then Tom waved his hands in front of his eyes. He hoped and prayed his big mouthed brother would play along just this once.
Using exaggerated movements Jim tilted his head, snapped open his watch and checked the time. "We have to get going, my dog needs to be fed soon."
The rider checked the back seat and laughed when he saw Hank. "So, we got two Mr. Dunbars here and no Trooper Dunbar," howled their disguised inquisitor, "and you both need to get off the road right now. It ain't safe out here tonight."
"Please," Jim broke in, "my wife and son are waiting on my uncle's farm and it's the other side of Springfield."
"Too far, get off the roads now, if you know what's healthy." With the man went back to the snow mobile and waited for Tom to leave.
"What do we do now," Tom voice shook as he started the car.
"We find someplace to go and get the hell off the road. There is no way I am getting caught in the middle of a gang war."
tbc
